"P'raps them critters will have had enough already and will sheer off," said Hank, still sitting motionless on the top of the snow wall when the watch he had been keeping came to its end. "Ef not, then it proves as there's something deep behind all this here business. Hi, Joe! It aer your turn now, and jest you keep movin'. It's all right fer me as is an old hand at the game to sit tight and look about me. Young chaps feels the cold wuss and soon gets sleepy. Move all the time, and take a fill of 'bacca."
It was a habit into which Joe had fallen, and with very good reason, too, seeing the open-air life he was leading and the companions he associated with; for your Canadian backwoodsman loves his smoke. A short clay dangles from his teeth on most occasions. Joe therefore roused himself swiftly from his blanket; and here again was something more which camping had taught him, namely, to be a light sleeper. Hank might be said to sleep always with one eye open, for he heard the slightest movement. Beaver Jack might often enough appear to be sunk in the deepest slumber, and yet, if one happened to peer into his face, one discovered that both of those deep-sunk brilliant orbs were actually twinkling. Our hero, too, would sit up with a jerk on the smallest occasion, so that Hank's call had brought him to his feet promptly. And now he watched the little man shake himself like a dog and toss a blanket about him. Then Joe crammed weed into his pipe thoughtfully, lifted a glowing ash from the fire, and puffed long flames into the bowl. With a trail of smoke about his head, he began to march the round of this strange fortification.
"Hard as a brick," he told himself, running his hand along the outside of the snowy wall. "Wouldn't turn a bullet, perhaps, but almost, I reckon. Ah! there's the fire the enemy are burning. Jolly cheek they've got to make use of our old camp! Wonder what they're up to? Planning an attack for the early hours of the morning, if I ain't mistaken."
Joe tramped round and round, halting every few minutes to stare about him, a comprehensive look, in fact, which took in his entire surroundings. From his perch on the wall he could appreciate the commanding situation. The countryside seemed to be cut off by that wide-spreading smooth surface, with its soft covering of white snow, unbroken in all directions save for the track which he and his friends had made in gaining the island. The edge of the lake, where the bank rose from the frozen water, was now so merged with the vast sheet of ice itself, that even from the island, the best point of vantage for observation, one could not say where ice ended and solid earth began. Over all the wintry moon threw its own particular magnificence, bathing the scene in brilliant rays which accentuated the pure whiteness of everything.
"Ripping!" Joe exclaimed. "Just fancy if we had such scenes in England! And people grumble at a Canadian winter. I dare say there are lots of reasons for wishing the weather were milder, for a winter such as this is stops a heap of work. You can't sow or plough or harrow. You can't build even a simple shack such as is wanted on the farms. You can't ride a horse, as a general rule, while there isn't feed for cattle. But it's glorious for all that. Give me a bright, sunny winter's day in the Dominion."
"You aer sure as there ain't no movement?" asked Hank, suddenly sitting up. "Seemed to me as ef I heard a sound."
"A dog yelped yonder," answered Joe, who was alert and taking notice of everything.
"A dog?"
"Yes; there's the sound again. I think, too, that it was a different animal."
"Then it aer a case of all hands on deck," whispered the little trapper, become suddenly cautious. "Ef dogs is barking, it stands to reason that they has been disturbed. As a general rule, they'll sleep a night like this through without moving; so, young feller, you kin look to see them critters afore very long. I'll rouse Beaver Jack and then get a kettle o' tea boiling. What's the hour, lad?"